‘Dear madam, don’t fix your affection on me,
You are fit for some lord of a noble degree,
That is able to keep up your honour and fame;
I am but a poor sailor, from England who came.
‘A man of mean fortune, whose substance is small,
I have not wherewith to maintain you withal,
Sweet lady, according to honour and state;
Now this is the truth, which I freely relate.’
The lady she lovingly squeezèd his hand,
And said with a smile, ‘Ever blessed be the land
That bred such a noble, brave seaman as thee;
I value no honours, thou’rt welcome to me;
‘My parents are dead, I have jewels untold,
Besides in possession a million of gold;
And thou shalt be lord of whatever I have,
Grant me but thy love, which I earnestly crave.’
Then, turning aside, to himself he replied,
‘I am courted with riches and beauty beside;
This love I may have, but my Ruth is denied.’
Wherefore he consented to make her his bride.
The lady she clothèd him costly and great;
His noble deportment, both proper and straight,
So charmèd the innocent eye of his dove,
And added a second new flame to her love.
Then married they were without longer delay;
Now here we will leave them both glorious and gay,
To speak of fair Ruth, who in sorrow was left
At home with her parents, of comfort bereft.
PART III.
When under the window with an aching heart,
He told his fair Ruth he so soon must depart,
Her parents they heard, and well pleasèd they were,
But Ruth was afflicted with sorrow and care.
Now, after her lover had quitted the shore,
They kept her confined a fall twelvemonth or more,
And then they were pleasèd to set her at large,
With laying upon her a wonderful charge: